Little light penetrates the abandoned warehouse, but enough to make out vague forms. Nicholas remains in the shadows, his outline barely discernible. One beam of light reflects off the barrel of his gun.
My brother doesn't bother with stealth. No need. There's nowhere to run. The stairs at the end of the catwalk might be less than fifty feet away, but they're too far for escape. I need to stall my brother and somehow distract him.
Cool air whispers over my skin as I face the barrel of Nicholas's gun.
Is this how my life will end? Vivianne's? I steady myself on my feet, bite back against the pain, and place Vivianne firmly behind me.
"Go. Run."
She clutches at the wetness of my shirt. Ice-cold, her fingers tremble.
"Not without you."
A bullet spits out from the end of the barrel. White-hot light flashes, and a deafening crack splits the air. I push Vivianne,urging her forward. The bullet misses, whizzing far too close for comfort.
"You have nowhere to go, my brother."
"Let the girl go." I keep my voice steady. "That was the deal—the painting for the girl. Let her go."
"Do you think I'm a fool?"
"Never."
My brother is deranged.
"We made a pact, my brother. Do you remember it? Do you remember sealing our souls in blood?"
I remember.
Foolish promises made by mere boys—children who knew everything about heartache and loss, and nothing about family, love, or commitment. We clung to each other and developed strong bonds in our loneliness, but time and circumstance chipped away at the dreams of those two little boys.
"You lied to me, brother. You lied to me about Catherine. You lied about everything."
"Catherine is dead, Nicholas. You killed her."
"See, that's another lie." His coarse laughter rings hollow through the deserted warehouse. "You killed her, just as you stole her from me."
"That's not true."
Catherine was never mine—at least, not in the way Nicholas thinks. We've had this conversation time and time again, but Nicholas refuses to face the truth.
"Your carelessness put Catherine at risk. She sacrificed herself for you. Not me."
"Lies!" The word comes out in a hiss. "All lies. You wanted her but couldn't have her, so you killed her."
Heat floods my blood, and my temper barely stays in check. Arguing with my brother is pointless, except that it buys time and distance.
I keep my hand behind me and push Vivianne back. One step becomes two. Two become four.
I have fifty feet to cover and am determined to close that gap. Using my body as a shield, I'll buy Vivianne the time she needs to get to safety.
I could use a little backup. Where the hell is Urakov?
Three loud pops crack through the darkness. Nicholas's silhouette wavers. The barrel of his pistol dips, and he staggers forward.
"What?" He glances down, eyes going wide, and then his expression twists. "What have you done?"
Nicholas stumbles backward and bumps against the railing. Five more shots tear into him, jerking his torso and propelling him over the edge in an awkward cartwheel. He falls, disappearing into the darkness, until a sickening thud sounds below.
